Freddy vs. Jason: Bloodlust
(A/N: Well here it is, the second chapter! Hope you enjoy!)
Darkness, nothing but darkness consumed Ash as he lay awake on top of the covers, sweat covering his entire body, sweat that glistened in what little moonlight that shone through the blinds of his bedroom. He couldn't sleep; he just couldn't, not after what happened that day at S-Mart. The deadites were back, but how? Ash had destroyed the Necronomicon; there wasn't a person alive who knew those passages off by heart. Ash thought of the dream he had the previous night, about the cabin, Linda…that man.
"It was just a dream…" He muttered, turning onto his side. It had to be a dream, but there was no explaining the wounds on his chest. Who was that guy anyway? Ash had never dreamt about him before, never seen him in a comic book, a TV show or even a movie, so from where did he imagine him up? He sure was ugly though, he mused to himself, trying to forget that the four claw marks on his chest were there.
Ash sat up quickly, his attention being brought to the window as a piercing shriek of terror tore through the midnight air. With reflexes he didn't even know he had, Ash leapt off the bed and ran to the window, separating the blinds with his remaining hand. He saw a woman running down the street, with three other guys chasing her. Time to be a hero, he thought as he pulled on a denim shirt and his black work-trousers. His shotgun, its holster, the chainsaw and replacement hand were already laid out, since the events in that cabin and especially today he was taking no chances about his safety.
The woman ran as fast as she could, she'd lost her high-heeled shoes about a block-and-a-half back and her bare feet were beginning to get sore from the rough tarmac. She'd also lost her bag, which she'd tossed at the men to that they'd leave her alone, but it was obvious by now that money isn't what they were after. She glanced back and saw they were catching up, three men who may have been roughly early-twenties and medium-build. One was shorter than the others, but by only a foot or so. The men closed in on her until the tallest and more muscular one managed to grab her by the arm and roughly pull her backwards, almost yanking her shoulder out of its socket.
"You really know how to whet a man's appetite…" The shortest of them snickered, turning her around and splitting her blouse in two. He stood a full six inches taller than the woman and he stared down at her with lustful intent. He blinked as he felt something at his left temple, something hard, cold, and metallic. He turned his head to the left only to have both barrels of a twelve gauge sawed-off cobalt blue Remington shoved into his face.
"Let her go." Ash ordered, leering down at the shaken man, who quickly did as he was told. The bigger man snarled and advanced towards Ash, who promptly held up his chainsaw, aiming it directly at the muscular thug. "One more move and his head disappears and you'll have a twin brother." Ash threatened, even though his chainsaw's cord had yet to be pulled; it was inoperative for the moment yet the men barely noticed. The woman stood fixed to the road, staring wide-eyed at Ash's right arm.
The chainsaw-wielding vigilante was so wrapped up in keeping the two men subdued he failed to notice the third man, who attacked Ash from his left, pushing the shotgun from his grip, it clattered to the floor and the shorter man tackled Ash around the waist, knocking him to the ground. They fell to the floor hard, knocking the wind from both their lungs. Ash quickly recovered and used the motor-section of the chainsaw to knock the thug off him. He stood up and was quickly grabbed by the tallest guy, who punched him in the face before winding him once again with a hard knee to the stomach. The hulking brute let Ash go after a swift kick to a certain collection of soft dangly objects sent him to his knees.
Diving for his shotgun, Ash rolled to his side, stood up and slammed the butt into the jaw of the smallest guy, knocking him out cold. The third man, who had attacked him in the first place, was also sent to the floor after receiving a well-deserved blow to the face, first from Ash's fist, then from the butt of his Remington. The woman backed away as her saviour turned to face her, triumphant.
"Don't I get a thanks?" He asked her. He got no answer from the woman, she only screamed in response before turning and dashing down the street into the darkness. "Geez…last time I save your life…" Ash muttered to himself. He himself screamed as two arms wrapped around his shoulders and lifted him off the ground.
"Join us…" The muscular thug groaned as he started to crush Ash in his vice-like grip.
"Get the fuck off me!" Yelled Ash as he aimed the shotgun downwards and blew off half of the thugs' left foot. Dark blood spewed over the tarmac as Ash fell to the floor and scrambled to his feet. The man screamed in pain, quickly shook it off and stared at Ash, whose eyes went wide and face paled as he saw the mans face. His eyes were white and lifeless, his skin a sickly ash-grey with a single thick vein bulging from the left side of his face, his body was twisted in such a fashion it was probable that the Kandarian demon that possessed his body had broken his back as well as several other bones whilst taking over his mind and body.
"Come to us Ash…" A voice called out from behind the man that stood before him. Ash squinted and took several steps back as he saw a hoard of deadite-possessed humans float, walk and crawl towards him. "…Join us…" The other two men, who were supposed to be unconscious, sat up, with the same dead-look on their faces, and started to float several feet off the ground.
Out of nowhere, a screeching deadite shot from the crowd towards Ash. He ducked out of the way, turned, aimed his shotgun and blew the back of the head off the woman. It did little to affect her though, as she spun around, spewed a little blood and attacked him again. She grabbed Ash by his shirt and lifted him off the ground.
"Give us your soul!" She squawked, reaching a hand up to his throat.
"Go to hell!" Ash spat before ramming the barrel of his weapon up underneath the woman's chin, pushing it up until it reached the wooden forend. Blood spurted downward, over Ash's legs and feet, before splashing on the asphalt. He squeezed the triggers and both barrels breathed fire and led into the head of the woman, it exploded like a balloon, drenching Ash in dark discoloured blood and god-knows-what else. Spitting out a wad of blood that found its way to his mouth, Ash spun around as he landed and pulled the cord. His chainsaw roared to life, filling the air with exhaust fumes. Deadites screeched and charged towards Ash, blood, bile and spittle dripping from their mouths, there were hundreds of them, a single human wouldn't stand a chance.
Ash may not have been smart, but he knew enough to know that there were too many for him to fight alone, he needed others. He turned on his heel and ran down the street as fast as he could, wiping the blood off his face with his sleeve. Deadites poured out of doors and windows of the buildings he passed. One deadite broke a fifth floor window on a block of flats and limply fell out, smashing with a sickening thud against the tarmac below. A lone creature challenged him, surprising him from his left. Ash deftly spun clockwise on his axis and sliced the deadite from his neck down to his ribcage. The possessed man fell to the floor in two pieces, but still he lived, he used his left arm to drag what was left of his torso towards Ash, blood, spit, puss and bile pouring from his mouth.
The torso was ignored as Ash continued on his way down the street, he had no idea of where he was going, but anywhere were there were no walking dead was better than this place. He stopped, being confronted with more deadites. A small child walked to the front of the throng of undead, a half-eaten arm in hand. Blood dripped thickly from her mouth and chin, her eyes were whitish-grey and her face was veined and pale. She hissed, standing her ground.
"Great…just what I need…" Ash murmured, glancing around at the swarm of deadites. He spun around, hearing a noise. The other deadites he was running from had caught up with him, the torso crawling along the front of the group. He was surrounded; there was no way out of the colossal assembly of bodies.
"Come on! Get the fuck in here!" Alicia screamed at her companion, Kaylin, who was running across the dark parking lot towards the pickup, a towering figure hot on her heels. The truck seemed so far away, Kaylin felt as if she would never reach it alive. The cold night breeze burned her skin more than fire ever could, she could scarcely breathe from all the running she'd done in the past few hours. Approaching the truck and certain salvation, Kaylin tripped over a small pothole in the ground, she fell to the ground almost in slow motion. This is it, she thought, all the fighting for nothing, done in because of a damn pothole. She could feel the looming presence of her pursuer right behind her, reaching out for her, ready to take her away. Her heart leaped and skipped several beats as she fell within arms-length of the pickup; she grabbed the door handle, her knees colliding with the tarmac with an almost shattering force. Quickly, without giving thought to her knees, she scrambled to her feet and dived into the passenger seat.
"Quick, move it!" Kaylin cried, slamming the door. Alicia revved the truck for all she was worth, pushing the engine to its limits. She sped across the tarmac towards the exit, hoping to outrun the immense behemoth that had destroyed their lives in the span of one night. Alicia laughed in disbelief as she looked into the rear-view mirror and saw the outline of the six-foot monster they were running from. The tires screeched to a near-deafening level as they gained speed down the empty stretch of highway. Alicia sighed in relief and looked over at Kaylin. She looked into the mirror again; the ogre was following them on foot. Alicia shook her head; there was no way he could catch up with them now.
"Do you believe him…? He's trying to follow us!" She half-laughed. Kaylin didn't respond. Alicia looked at her once again and screamed as she saw the whole left side of Kaylin's waist was soaked in blood. The pickup quickly spun a hundred and eighty degrees in the middle of the road; the headlights aimed at their follower like eyes staring him down. Alicia began to weep as she sped towards Kaylin's murderer as fast as the truck would allow. That night she had lost her best friends, people she'd known since forever, now this…this thing had taken away her lover. He would pay, no matter the cost.
Jason stood his ground as the battered old Toyota Tacoma hurtled towards him at full-speed, he feared very little, least of all cars. The headlights became blindingly bright as the truck came within ten feet of him, still he stood his ground, still he stood there to take the brunt of the pickups devastating blow. The vehicle ploughed into him, but didn't stop. Alicia sobbed heavily as she kept driving with Jason attached to the front of the truck like some sort of twisted hood ornament. Suddenly, the Toyota careered off the road, down an embankment and smashed into a tree, crushing Voorhees between the mighty oak and the Tacoma.
Alicia, welling with anger and hatred, got out of the truck and briskly walked around to the back of the totalled vehicle. She grabbed a large tool from the flatbed, not caring what it was, and stormed towards Jason. Then, through the darkness, she saw the sharp glint of metal. As she reached the passenger door where Kaylin had entered moments before their escape, Alicia dropped the tool she held and grabbed the handle of the two-foot machete before pulling it free from the door and her deceased girlfriend's ribcage. She walked towards the object of her abhorrence, the machete in hand, and saw what she had done to the murderer of countless people. The front of the pickup had literally wrapped itself around Jason's body and half of the thick tree behind him; he lay facedown on the bonnet, which had him pinned by the waist and legs. The hood of the truck was a heap of twisted metal, blood, wood and motor oil. Alicia had never seen such a sight before and was going to make this last as long as she could.
Jason straightened himself slowly and looked at Alicia, who glared at him with nothing but contempt. Without saying a word, the enraged teenager raised the blade above her head and brought it down on Voorhees, slicing down two inches into his shoulder. She brought it up and back down again, this time hitting him in the head, cutting through his mask and skull. Alicia wrenched it free and hacked down again, and again, and again, until she was certain that not even the infamous Jason Voorhees could recover from it. She lowered the machete and stared at the body that lay in front of her, feeling a small sense of retribution.
She stood there, for what seemed to be hours, just staring at the deformed corpse sprawled over the hood of the truck. Blood, so dark and thick it was almost black, trickled across the dirty white paint, down the side and onto the grass. She began to sob, a sob that turned into a wail of pain and sorrow and loss. Nothing would bring back her friends and her lover, nothing, and not even hacking Jason to death with his own machete was consolation enough. She turned and stared up at the road above. There was no traffic; the road was as deserted as it was when they were on it.
The wind howled between the trees, but Alicia felt neither cold nor air against her skin. She didn't really care, as far as she was concerned she was numb to everything at that moment. The howling became louder, much louder, almost as if it was travelling towards her. Alicia spun around, raising the machete to slice up whatever was there. But there was nothing, yet the howling persisted, it came closer, it would have been in her line of sight if it were a thing of flesh. Suddenly, a cold shiver ran through her body, fear flooded her mind and before she knew it she was running back up the steep bank to the road. Then, as she reached less than a quarter of the way up the hill, the howling stopped, then Alicia followed suit.
She looked back, the soft ground slowly crumbling under her feet, small rocks bounced down the hill and clattered against the back of the Tacoma. Nothing had changed, Jason was still lying there and the truck hadn't moved. She started to ascend the bank once more when she heard another sound. This time it wasn't the eerie howl she heard before, it was something else…there it was again, it sounded like a voice…
"Kaylin!" Alicia cried out, sliding back down the knoll to the truck. Kaylin groaned again, her window had shattered and she used the empty space to lift herself up a little. Alicia ran towards the open window, tears flowing down her cheeks and a smile on her face. Her lover of three years was alive; at last, something good had happened. She skidded across the loose earth and pulled herself back to Kaylin. "It's alright baby…I'll get you to a hospital…" She whispered soothingly, trying to open the door, but it had jammed. Kaylin mumbled incoherently. Her voice became deeper, more warped and by the third time she repeated it, the message became evermore clear.
"Join us…"
(A/N: Hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it, I had the best time writing this chapter and I hope it shows. And like I said before, I hope I do the characters justice.)